Poison and Pearls
by BellaBallet
Summary: Set near the end of season 3. A mysterious blogger known only as 'The Poltergeist' begins to terrorise the Grayson family, exposing all their secrets and tampering with their lives. Victoria is spiralling out of control. Conrad will do anything to protect her - and his reputation. Emily sets out to find this mysterious Poltergeist. Will he be friend or foe? [ConVict]
1. Chapter 1

Poison and Pearls

"Mrs Grayson?"

Victoria stared out towards the ocean, watching a little fishing boat battle against strong winds. Outside, a storm was beginning to rise; inside, however, she felt numb.

"What is it, Marguerite?"

"Mr Grayson is here to see you - can I show him in?"

Conrad walked into the bedroom without waiting for a reply. Marguerite, their maid, took this as her cue to leave - and quickly. Having spent the last 12 years working for the Graysons, she knew when to leave a room and make herself scarce. The bitter exchanges between these two 'unhappily ever afters' was often uncomfortable viewing.

"Mrs Grayson, eh?" Conrad raised his eyes. "I expected you to get rid of my name when our divorce came through. Or perhaps you couldn't bear to part with it?"

Victoria didn't turn to face him. Instead she gripped the side of the balcony to steady herself.

"Get out." she said, through gritted teeth.

Conrad closed the bedroom door, shutting them both in together. He walked towards her.

"What the hell happened to your car? It's a wreck."

_The screech of tyres on wet tarmac. A pair of shining eyes in the headlights..._

"Victoria?"

"I had an accident," she said. "Not that it's any of your concern."

Victoria felt the floor underneath her feet shift slightly. Her legs felt weak; she wanted to sit down, but she wouldn't show any signs of physical weakness. He would use it to manipulate her, of this she was sure.

"Are you alright?" The concern in his voice irritated her. The last thing she wanted was his sympathy.

"I was fine before you showed up."

"Then why won't you look at me?"

Victoria had kept her back to him from the moment he arrived, staring intently out to the ocean. It seemed unnatural, Conrad thought. He stepped towards her and put his hand on her arm, pulling her around so that he could see her face. The right side of her head was cut, and a dark purple bruise was beginning to form under the porcelain skin of her cheekbone.

"My God, Victoria... how the hell...?"

Victoria shook herself from his grip.

"Why will you never leave me alone? If I ran to the ends of the earth you'd pursue me there, wouldn't you? This is my house now and you are not welcome here!"

Her head pounded and raising her voice only made it worse. If only he would leave, she could lie down for a bit...

"Look, just calm down - I came looking for Charlotte, not to torment you. She's not at the Stowaway and her phone's switched off."

"She'll be keeping out of your way, if she has any sense."

Victoria closed her eyes and grimaced as a sharp pain shot through her side.

_A dark highway lined with fir trees, a misshapen figure appearing in the road..._

"Have you seen a doctor?" Conrad reached out his hand to steady her but then hesitated, remembering her reaction the last time he touched her.

"Sit down," he said. "I'll call your doctor. You need to get checked over."

"It's nothing, Conrad. I'm fine."

The colour had faded from her skin and she looked pale against the darkening sky. Although Victoria was no longer his wife, Conrad felt the inexplicable urge to take care of her when ever she showed any rare signs of vulnerability.

"What happened with the car? Was it another vehicle?"

"The road was icy and I lost control for a few seconds. It..."

_The squeal of rubber on tarmac as she slammed on the breaks, the sickening crack of bone and flesh as a figure rolled over her bonnet and hit the windscreen..._

"Sit down."

She hesitated.

"For christ's sake, Victoria - sit down before you fall down. Why do you insist upon building a wall around you so that you can suffer alone? You crashed the car and you're shaken up. There's no shame in that."

Victoria reluctantly sat down whilst Conrad fetched them both a drink. She downed the glass of dark golden liquid, immediately feeling better. Conrad watched her in silence.

"What do you want with Charlotte?" she asked.

"Well..."

He pause and then sat by her.

"Daniel came to see me today. He's discovered some particularly venomous articles about our family written by an anonymous cyber journalist named 'Poltergeist'. Normally I would disregard this sort of thing as petty gossip and speculation, however..."

He looked out towards the horizon for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

"After taking a closer look at the content of these articles it seems like he, or she perhaps, seems to know one or two Greyson family secrets that I had believed to be extremely well-guarded."

"Like what?" she asked.

Conrad pulled several folded sheets of paper out of his inside pocket of. He spread them open on the table in front of her.

"Take a look for yourself."

_POISON AND PEARLS: A SECRET HISTORY OF THE GRAYSONS_

_This blog is dedicated to uncovering the secrets and lies of the Hamptons' most notorious family. _

_There's only so many skeletons that you can keep in one closet. _

_Truth makes its way through the shadows._

_And They. Shall. Suffer. _

_ - P0ltergi5t._

Victoria felt a cold chill surge through her body. This was more than idle gossip.

This was personal.

This was deadly.

She scanned some of the titles. There was at least one article written on every member of her immediate family...

_Conrad Grayson's Global Cover-Up: Part One_

_'Daniel Grayson: How a Frat Brat became a Groom Gunman.'_

_'The Paternity Mystery of Patrick Harper - His Real Father Uncovered.'_

_'Victoria's Secret - How the Hamptons Housewife Built Her Empire.'_

_'Who Framed David Clarke?'_

_'Missing in Action: The Grayson Body Count.'_

_'Charlotte Grayson's Tragic Secret Pregnancy.' _

_'Emily Thorne-Grayson: The Goldigger In Disguise.'_

Victoria hesitated when she read this last entry. Emily...

Could her suspicion about Emily be true? Was this just another attempt to sabotage their family? Was she desperate enough to implicate herself in their crimes just for payback...?

"These are..." Victoria's chest felt tight, like something heavy was pressing down upon her.

"They are extremely uncomfortable reading and, might I add, a small selection of many. This guy has certainly done his homework on our grizzly family history."

Victoria stood up and looked out at the ocean once more. The waves were still crashing turbulently against the shore and the sky was heavy with dark clouds which seemed to herald the onset of thunder. The little boat had disappeared into the horizon to search for calmer waters.

"What do we do about it?" she asked Conrad.

"We do what we always do, my dear. We destroy them..."

"... before they destroy us."

"Exactly," he said. "Now. I believe you are acquainted with the services of Mr Nolan Ross?"

"He's helped me out once before."

A dull pain was growing in Victoria's side and her breath seemed short and shallow. Everything that was safe and sacred in her world was unravelling and she was slowly falling apart...

"We might need to call upon his services to identify the true identity of this 'Poltergeist'."

"How do we know it's not him?" she asked.

"I know we have never been on the best of terms with Nolan Ross, but do you really think he despises us enough to pull a dangerous stunt like this?"

"He'd do it for Emily."

"What - even at the expense of Charlotte and Patrick? I thought Ross and Patrick had a history?"

"Perhaps you're right," she said. "I don't know who to trust anymore."

There was a short silence. They stood, side by side, listening to the rainfall and the distant rumble of thunder. Eventually Conrad spoke.

"Don't worry. I'll fix this."

"Conrad -"

Without warning, Victoria felt herself falling. She clutched at Conrad's arm and he steadied her.

"Victoria?"

"I can't -"

_Her mind suddenly flashed back to a moment in time, years earlier, when she'd been in a similar position: Conrad holding her up; she holding on to him - paralysed with fear. _

_"Victoria? What's wrong with you?" _

_Eighteen years earlier, her response had been the same... "I can't do it, I can't do it anymore."_

_"You've got to," he had told her then. "For Daniel, for our future."_

_"Conrad, please - he's an innocent man!"_

_"If you don't testify against him, Victoria, then they're going to start asking questions - and do you know where those questions are going to lead them? They're going to lead them straight to our front door, my darling wife. So unless you want our unborn child to take its first breath in a prison hospital wing, then I suggest that you pull yourself together and get in the damn car." _

_She had of course. But that was by no means the end of it._

"Victoria? Can you hear me?"

Back in the present, Victoria opened her eyes to find herself lying on her bed, Conrad leaning over her. He had carried her in from the balcony and was now holding out a glass of water.

"You passed out," he said. "I'm going to call the doctor whether you like it or not. You might have concussion."

She took the water, too tired to argue. He gently brushed her hair away her from face.

"Everything will be alright. Trust me."

"I don't trust you, Conrad. Nor do I need your help."

"Well, that might be true," he said. "But I need yours. We have a battle to fight against invisible enemies, and you can't deny that we're stronger together. Like it or not, Victoria, this war is only just beginning..."

[To be continued...]


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Poltergeist?"

Emily stared at her laptop screen, confused. She'd just received an email from Nolan asking her to take a look at a blog about the Graysons that was going viral.

_Hey Ems,_

_It seems you might have a new bff in disguise... check out this blogger. He goes by the name of P0ltergie5t and he's been getting quite a few hits recently. Turns out you and he might have a thing or two in common. He even mentions your name quite a few times - just make sure that you don't get caught in his crossfire..._

Nolan had pasted a link below. Emily clicked on it and it took her directly to a blog named "Poison and Pearls". Underneath the title was a large, colour photograph taken of the Grayson family several years ago. She had never seen this picture, which was unusual considering the amount of time she had spent in Grayson manor over the past two years. Victoria and Conrad were a lot younger in the picture, they seemed happy - he had his arm around her shoulders, and she was leaning in to his torso, looking up at him and laughing. Emily had never seen them look this relaxed together in real-life. Daniel looked about 14 and he was grinning at his kid-sister Charlotte, who must have been about seven. Young Charlotte had two long plaits either side of her ears and she was sticking her tongue out at whoever was holding the camera. It was strange, Emily thought, seeing proof that the Graysons had once been a happy family, even if it was in the distant past. She clicked on the photograph.

Suddenly virtual blood began to pour down the photograph, covering the smiling faces of the family. The image dissolved and in its place emerged a black and white picture of the Graysons that had been taken at Emily and Daniel's wedding. There were two distinct differences between the two photographs. Emily featured in the second picture, stood right in the centre of the family wearing her wedding dress. As for the second difference... Well, they were all smiling, but none of them, Emily included, looked remotely happy.

Emily scrolled down to discover a long list of articles making all sorts of allegations about the Graysons, most of them true. The details, the dates - they were all there. There were several pages of information about Flight 197 - all perfectly formed theories lacking nothing but hard evidence. This Poltergeist was no conspiracy theorist, he knew his facts.

But did he know too much?

She read the rest of Nolan's email.

_I did a bit of digging to see if I could find out more about our little Poltergeist - I figured you, or one of your many aliases, might want to pay him a visit? You know what they say, "keep your friends close, but your fellow revengers closer"...  
So far, my cyber-Sherlocking has been unsuccessful. His online presence begins and ends with his Poison and Pearls site and the information stored there is heavily encrypted. His tech knowledge is impressive and I'm almost certain he's a hacker - which might explain how he knows so much. I can't pin down a location YET... but i'm working on it. Come see me when you can and we'll talk._

_N._

Emily closed the laptop and went out onto her veranda to think. It had been raining in heavy, icy sheets all night and the high wind from the ocean rattled the windows of her beach hut. Why was this person out to get the Graysons? Had they done something to him too? It wasn't unlikely. The Graysons seemed to have no trouble in collecting enemies. But how did he know so much about them...?

This Poltergeist could only be one of two things:

an ally,  
or a threat.

Either way, if he was at risk of compromising her mission then he had to be eliminated. Fast. For that she needed help.

It was late, but she needed to talk this through with Nolan, it couldn't wait until the morning. She stared up at the imposing Grayson manor silhouetted like a dark scar against the charcoal skyline. The house was in darkness, all except one room on the ground floor. Emily squinted through the rain - the light looked like it was coming from Conrad's office. As far as she knew, Conrad was still staying at the South Fork Inn. Was Victoria in there? If so, what was she doing in there this late in to the night?

Emily went inside and grabbed her car keys from the sideboard. If the Grayson's already knew about Poltergeist, it wouldn't be long before they started looking for him themselves. She'd been careful, but there was a chance that this Poltergeist had discovered something about her true identity and she couldn't risk the Graysons getting hold of that information. She had to get to Poltergeist, before they did.

She took out her phone. Nolan picked up after two rings.

"I thought I might be hearing from you tonight."

"I read your message," she said.

"And?"

"I'm coming over."

"Mi Casa es su Casa, I'll see you in ten. Oh and Ems? Don't forget to bring your red sharpie - I've got a plan."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_"The Prosecution would like to call Victoria Grayson to the stand."_

_Victoria climbed the steps to the witness stand, looking straight ahead. She couldn't look left in case she caught Conrad's eye; she couldn't look right because she couldn't bear to see David. _

_"Victoria Katherine Greyson, do you promise that the evidence you give today shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"_

_The Judge's small, black eyes were fixed on her swayed slightly as her vision blurred. The courtroom was full of people and the gallery was packed with journalists from every national media outlet in America. As her eyes re-focused she met Conrad's gaze. He was sat behind the Prosecution, leaning forwards and looking anxious. He nodded, lips pursed. Her heart thundered painfully against her chest._

_Beat Beat._

_" I swear that the - the -" _

_Her voice sounded weak and low. _

_Beat Beat._

_She barely recognised it as her own. _

_The courtroom was out of focus again, her head starting to spin..._

_Beat Beat._

_Victoria was beginning to slip into the shadows when she heard a voice from across the courtroom..._

_"This is crazy - she's in no fit state to testify!"_

_David._

_The darkness was creeping in. Victoria leaned forwards, reaching for the side of the dock._

_"She's pregnant, for Christ's sake," David shouted across the courtroom. "Somebody get her a chair or something!"_

_"Does he know?" Victoria wondered, as she felt herself falling. "Does he know that the child is his?"_

Victoria woke up with a start, gasping for breath. It took a few moments for her to establish where she was: at home, in her own bed at Grayson manor. It was still dark outside. She wondered how long she'd been asleep, glad to be awake and free from her nightmares.

It had been years since she'd dreamt about David's trial. All those harrowing weeks spent answering questions, drawing-up statements, consulting lawyer after lawyer... only to get into the witness stand and pass out in front of them all before she could say a word. Still, at least she had not had to testify against David. Victoria knew that she was guilt of many acts of betrayal and deceit, but denouncing the man she loved in front of the world was not one of them. It had made no difference in the end. She had shut herself away in her room at the manor until Charlotte was born a few weeks later. Victoria attended David's final sentencing several months later, but the Prosecution never asked her to re-testify.

Guilty.

She was still living with that verdict eighteen years later.

Now Victoria had another problem to deal with. She needed to return to the scene of the accident and finish what she had started.

She got out of bed, wincing as she clutched her side, and swallowed two more painkillers from the box that the doctor had left her.

"A couple of cracked ribs and mild concussion", he had said. "Nothing serious."

Nevertheless, getting dressed was agony.

At the doctor's request, Conrad agreed to stay overnight to keep an eye on her condition. She had vehemently protested, saying that she'd rather slip into a coma than spend another night under the same roof as him, but he was insistent and, in the end, she didn't have the strength to argue.

Victoria crept downstairs. She noticed that the light was still on in Conrad's office.

Trust Conrad to make things more difficult, she thought.

Fortunately, as she passed the study door she saw that he was asleep, his head on the desk surrounded by papers and what looked like old photographs. She had no idea what he was doing, nor did she care. Instead, she put on his heavy, dark coat, that had been hung-up neatly in the closet by Marguerite, and then slipped silently out of the front door. It had stopped raining and the moonlight was just beginning to fight its way through the thick, night cloud.

Victoria's car was still parked in the driveway; the front end was heavily damaged and a large crack split the window diagonally from one end to the other. She was lucky that the whole windscreen hadn't shattered. The car was too damaged to drive, so she'd have to take another.

Conrad had parked his own shiny, black Bentley alongside it. Victoria sunk her hands deep in the coat pockets and found his car keys. She'd suffered twenty five years of hearing him yell down the hallway "I can't find my damn car keys! Victoria, have you seen them?"

Well, if he went to look for them tonight, he wouldn't find them in a hurry,

The Bentley's engine purred as Victoria slotted the keys into the ignition. The car came to life with a smooth, low rumble, and Victoria drove away into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Ems, perfect timing. I've made you a Gin Sling." Nolan pushed the cocktail glass into Emily's hand. "Looks like you need it."

"So what's your theory?" Emily said.

"Oh, hello, Nolan - thank you so much for inviting me round at 2am to work out how to take out yet another one of my many adversaries. And thank you for your delightful chilled beverages... You're welcome, Ems!" Nolan shook his head and sat down on the sofa.

"_You_ sent the information to _me_. If you don't want to help me with this Nolan, then you shouldn't start digging on my behalf."

"Relax, Emily. I'm here for you, day or night - you know that."

Emily exhaled. She felt like an idiot - she'd never have even made it to the Hamptons if it hadn't been for Nolan. It was so easy to lose sight of those who cared about you unconditionally when your whole life was dedicated to the systematic destruction of others.

"Nolan, I'm sorry. I'm not myself right now."

"It's fine. I'll keep my humorous retorts for when you're feeling less revengy."

She smiled. He patted the sofa and she sat down next to him, wrapping her legs underneath her.

"Right. Let's see what we've got..."

He opened up the Poison and Pearls blog. Emily saw again the faces of the younger, happier Graysons in the photograph.

"Have you seen this picture before?" Nolan asked.

Emily shook her head.

"I saw lots of family photographs from when Daniel was young, but I don't remember this one."

"Don't you think it's a little odd that some random fanatic with a grudge against the Graysons would use a picture like this as the entry point to his site? This isn't a picture from a magazine or a photoshoot. This was taken on a regular film camera, maybe even a disposable one."

Emily took a sip of her drink and set it down on the table.

"So what are you saying?"

"What I'm saying, is that this photograph is not in the public domain. Unlike this second one..."

Nolan clicked on the picture. Blood seeped down the image and her wedding photograph appeared in its place, just like before.

"Anyone could get a hold of your wedding photograph, or one's like it - there are thousands of pictures of the Graysons on the net. But the first picture doesn't appear in any other hits, no matter how many image searches I do."

Emily was starting to understand the significance of what Nolan was trying to say. She refreshed the original page to see the first picture again, leaning forward to examine it more closely.

"So you're saying that if the Poltergeist had this picture the he - "

"Must know the Graysons _personally_."

There was a silence whilst Emily thought about the implications of this.

"Do you think it's someone we know? This photo's at least ten years old, so it must be someone who's known them a while."

"Or maybe it's someone who used to be acquainted with the Graysons but isn't anymore. Look at the light round the edges of the second image. This picture has been scanned from the first issue of Voulez. Why? He obviously wasn't in attendance at your wedding, otherwise he could have taken a photograph of his own. You might as well cross off everyone on your guest list."

Nolan crossed to the minibar to top up his drink.

"I think he's trying to send a message," he continued. "To the Graysons."

"How do you work that out?" Emily asked.

"It's not going to take them long to work out who took the first picture."

"What? Are you saying that you know who took every single picture of you ever taken? The Graysons are society royalty - they've lived their whole lives in front of the cameras."

Nolan slammed the bottle of Grey Goose on the sideboard.

"Oh come on, Ems - look at their expressions! They look like The Waltons on Christmas morning. If this was an advert I'd buy whatever the hell they were selling. Do you really think they'd look this playful and normal if a complete stranger was taking the picture?"

He was right of course. Looking back at their track record, the Graysons were most likely to hurt those closest to them. It made perfect sense.

"If this happened a while back," she said. "Then why has he waited until now to expose them?"

Nolan gave her a wry smile.

"You might not be the only one who's planning a slow, painful revenge."

Emily felt conflicted. On the one hand, she felt some comfort knowing that someone out their felt just as wronged by the Grayson's as she did and wanted retribution. On the other hand, she didn't know how she would feel if the Graysons fell on another sword that wasn't her own. Would the simple act of vengeance itself be enough if she wasn't the one to deliver the fatal blow that brought their lives crashing down?

"We need to find him," she said. "Whatever his modus operandi, we need to know who he is and what he knows. Can you trace the location of his online output?"

"It'll take me a while, but in the meantime - how's your Italian?"

Emily looked at him, confused. Nolan pulled his laptop closer to him and let his fingers fly across the keys. Within moments he had zoomed in on a section of skyline in the background of the photograph, just above Conrad's head. A large, dome-shaped building came clearly into view. Emily recognised it at once.

"St. Peter's Basilica."

Nolan raised a glass to Emily and then drained the contents.

"Rome."

"They knew someone once who lived out there." Emily said. "Daniel told me. Conrad knew him from his Harvard days, I think."

"So what next?"

"We draw up a list of Conrad's old college friends and see if any of them have lived in Rome or the surrounding area."

"Seems like the Graysons were enjoying the spoils of another ancient empire. Perhaps they were getting inspiration for their own?"

Emily smiled. Even the mighty Rome was reduced to rubble, in the end. She was going to make sure that the Grayson empire would be no different.

Emily's mind seemed to be working in overdrive as she left Nolan's house and headed back to the beach hut. If Conrad's old college friend was Poltergeist, then what had the Graysons done to make him despise them so much? Emily was considering some possible theories when she noticed a car parked at the side of the highway. She would have driven on by without giving it much thought, but the beautiful black Bentley looked out of place somehow - abandoned on the road as though it had been left in a rush. As she approached the car, Emily realised that she recognised it...

It was Conrad's.

What was he doing out here on the highway in the early hours of the morning? Emily didn't know, but she was certainly going to find out. She parked discreetly a few hundred meters down the road, and then, pulling her hood over her head to disguise her fair hair, she set off into the night to find out exactly what Conrad Grayson was up to.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"I'm not going anywhere with you - you hear me? I don't care who you are."

The long-haired man spat on the floor of the cabin. Victoria looked at him with distaste.

"You need to get checked out at a hospital," she said. "Tell me who you are and why you're here and I'll take you there myself."

"Or what? You'll keep me locked-up in this cabin forever?"

"Your leg is clearly broken - do you really think I needed to resort to locking the door in order to keep you here? I locked it to keep other people out."

The long-haired man tried to stand, his arms shaking with exertion as he tried to pull his body weight off the camp bed.

"Oh yeah? Well you didn't seem to be that bothered about my broken leg when you made me walk all the way here."

He swayed slightly, unable to put pressure on his bad leg, and finally sat back on the camp bed.

"Would you rather I had left you on the highway?" she asked.

Victoria was getting impatient with him. She was hoping to return home before Conrad realised that she'd gone out and taken his car. The long-haired man grinned at her, bearing his yellow teeth, but in the candlelight it looked more like a grimace.

"Cut the crap, lady. You would've taken one look at me in my dirty clothes, all broken and bloodied on the highway, and you've got straight back into your smashed-up sports car and driven off as fast as possible in case I tried to sue your ass."

"But instead I offered to call you an ambulance and, when you wouldn't let me, I brought you here," Victoria responded.

"How convenient. So you just so happened to find a secret little hideaway in these woods just waiting here for you to keep your roadkill."

"I knew it was here - I lived here once before, just for a few months. It's a good place to come if you need to be... discreet. Now if you'd just let me take you to a - "

In a sudden movement that took her by surprise, the long-haired man reached out and grabbed Victoria by the wrist so hard that she let out a cry of shock.

"You ain't no saint!" he said. "In fact, I know exactly who you are. You we're all on for calling for help when you drove into me, then as soon as you saw my hand you led me to this place, locked me up and left me for dead."

Victoria dug her nails hard into his skin. The long haired man let go of her wrist but instinctively he lashed out, hitting her across the face with the back of his hand. The force of the blow made Victoria's ears ring, not aided by the wounds she had acquired from the impact of the crash. This swipe at Victoria unbalanced the long-haired man and he topped to the floor, wailing in agony as he fell on to his broken leg. As he writhed around, Victoria caught a glimpse of his hand again. He had some words scrawled across the skin in black ink:

_Grayson_

_Ocean Front, East Hampt. _

_Caravaggio _

The long-haired man was right; Victoria had noticed the writing on the roadside and it had unsettled her. The fact that this unsavoury figure had her surname and address written on his hand was disturbing enough, however the last word was the most chilling...

_Caravaggio_

It brought back unpleasant memories of a time in her life that she'd tried to forget and she needed to find out if this man was in any way connected. She had brought him back to the log cabin in the woods to find out more, but he had passed out with pain the moment they had arrived. He stank of alcohol which, Victoria thought, probably explained why he had walked straight out in front of a moving car, but surely it was more than mere coincidence that this man was crossing the highway only a few miles from her home with those words on his hand.

Victoria had decided to leave him to sleep it off, locking him in as a precaution. She daren't risk leaving her smashed-up car on the road for too long in case it attracted unwanted attention. She had intended to return in the morning, however the arrival of Conrad and his sudden obsession with watching her every move had forced her hand. If she had left it until morning Conrad would have undoubtedly followed her here, and she couldn't take that risk.

The long-haired man had stopped thrashing about on the ground and was now violently coughing. Victoria brought him some water, then went over to the oak desk by the dark window and felt around for something underneath it. She pulled out a handgun, which had been taped to the bottom of the desk, and pointed it directly at the long-haired man.

"You are one crazy bitch," he said. "You keep any painkillers under that too? I could use them."

Victoria took off the safety catch.

"I'm done playing nurse. Now, shut up and tell me who you are and why the hell you have my name and address written on your hand?"

The long-haired man swallowed hard; it was the first time that Victoria had detected a hint of fear in his eyes.

"Hey, look - I'm just the messenger. I was paid to find you and deliver a message to you. I was supposed to wait outside your house, but I guess our paths kind of crossed earlier than i'd expected..."

"Who sent you?" she asked.

"I don't know their names, I don't get told names - that's the point. We just have 'clients'. We're a specialist... communication service."

"I don't believe a word you're saying..." Victoria raised the gun and inch higher so that it was pointing at his head.

"No please - wait... I swear I don't know who sent it. It was a phone call and they used a voice distorter. They wired me my fee from Europe and sent me the key to a safety deposit box in Montauk, told me to give you what was inside it and to tell you "Caravaggio", that's it. See here..?" He pulled out something crumpled from the pocket of dirty jeans. "This was all that was inside the box - just this old photograph."

Victoria kept the gun pointing firmly at the long-haired man's face, however she took one hand off of it to look at the picture. She didn't recognise the photograph, but she did remember the night it had been taken. There were two couples in the picture, stood in a beautiful ballroom and holding their champagne glasses in the air as though making a toast. On the right she recognised younger versions of herself and Conrad, looking at each other and smiling. On the left there was an attractive couple - a man with fair hair and a strong, square jaw and an athletic-looking woman with olive skin and sleek black hair that stopped just short of her shoulders. The woman was looking at the fair-haired man and smiling. He, however, was looking at Victoria.

It had been years since she'd seen their faces because most of the photographs had been destroyed. On the back of the picture she discovered five words, written in dark red fountain pen:

_We live by our choices._

Victoria's hand trembled slightly. She had known that this day would come, eventually.

"This was the only thing you found?" she asked the long-haired man.

"That's it - I checked twice because -" he faltered. His eyes wandered to the window behind her and his mouth fell open. He raised his arm, pointing in the direction of the window. Victoria turned around just in time to see the silhouette of a person disappear from the window.

"Someone was outside," he said.

Victoria ran to the door, pulling it open. A dark figure was disappearing into the forest at haste. Victoria tore after them, but the dense undergrowth and the sharp pain in her ribs slowed her down. The figure had gone. Was someone following her after all? How long had they been there? Long enough to hear their conversation? It certainly wasn't Conrad's shape that she saw in the darkness, it was too slender and agile. If anything, it looked like a woman's form...

"Are you ok?" The voice of the long-haired man filtered through the darkness. He had hobbled to the cabin door, his eyes still fixed on the gun in her hand. He could be taken care of easily, she could buy his silence now she knew he wasn't a threat.

Victoria looked once more at the photograph still clutched in her hand. She had a far bigger problem to face, two of them - to be precise - and no amount of money would ever erase the past.

_We live by our choices._

Conrad had said that they needed each other, that they were stronger together, and, although she hated to admit it, Victoria was starting to think that Conrad was probably right...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Conrad opened Victoria's bedroom door quietly, trying not to wake her. He tried not to think about the pain he'd caused her over the course of the last 25 years. It nagged at him like a dull ache in his stomach. Guilt wasn't an emotion that Conrad Grayson was used to dealing with, but hearing her scream tear through him on the night of Pascal's death had left him with an uncomfortable sensation that kept him awake in the early hours of the morning, starving him of sleep. She hadn't asked for any of this. Thirty years ago Victoria was just a pretty little artist's assistant working in the Upper West side when Pascal - who was visiting Conrad on business - had insisted they dropped in on the premise of viewing some art so that he could see his old flame.

"I used to know someone who worked here," he said. "Or I did know her, when I was young and foolish."

When Conrad asked who she was, Pascal had answered, "Oh just some girl. She probably doesn't even work here now."

But she did still work there. She wasn't too pleased to see Pascal, so she barely even looked at Conrad on that first visit - but from the moment Conrad entered the gallery his eyes remained fixed on her. He had left the gallery with little more than a terse introduction to the girl, but her face seemed to be imprinted on his mind, with all the beautiful, innocent vitality of one who is young and brokenhearted. Pascal muttered something about "my biggest mistake" and they dropped the subject... but the girl in the gallery remained in the back of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to shake her. A few weeks later, Conrad worked-up the courage to go back to the gallery again, making up some story about wanting to buy one of the paintings there and needing some advice.

Victoria was a little guarded at first after recognising him as the man who had accompanied Pascal, but she soon softened when Conrad tried to impress her with his art knowledge. He had researched the works of art that were being exhibited there beforehand so that he would look like he knew what he was talking about, but his nerves got the better of him and he got all the names and dates mixed up and ended up looking like a complete fool. She had laughed kindly, a noise which flowed through her, light and bright like birdsong. This little bird had a broken wing, and when Conrad saw her standing in the gallery in a thin cotton summer dress she had made herself and a red flower tucked behind her ear, he swore he'd do anything in his power to protect this little broken bird and teach her how to fly again.

He had tried to handle Victoria with care, gently smoothing out her pain like the ocean smooths the pebbles on which it breaks, but in the end perhaps he was guilty of loving her too much. Instead he clipped the little bird's wings, afraid that she might try to fly away from him as soon as she regained her strength. He locked her in a beautiful gilded cage by the sea and no matter how hard she beat her restless wings against its bars, he refused to set her free. She had grown sad, forgetting how to fly, and he had lost her anyway.

"I love you, sweetheart. I'm so sorry."

Victoria's bedroom was in darkness. She must be sleeping still, Conrad thought. His voice was a hoarse, choked whisper as he said the words he could never say to her face. His breath caught at the back of his throat and he let out an involuntary sob that he instantly silenced, clamping his hand over his mouth. His eyes burned with unfamiliar tears and he stifled a sob for fear of waking her. It was too dark to see her, so he listened out for her breathing to check she was still sleeping.

_Nothing..._

Panic set in. He staggered towards the bed and felt for her form in the darkness, finding nothing but crumpled bedding.

Victoria was gone.

"Victoria?" Conrad ran to her bathroom but it was empty. He ran through the house calling her name.

"Victoria? Are you here?"

Had she got out of bed and passed-out somewhere? She had to be somewhere nearby - she had been too weak to go far, surely...? He was almost certain she wouldn't leave the house, certainly not in that wrecked-up car. Conrad ran to the front door to double check and was relieved to see that her car was still there, smashed-up in the driveway. He sighed - she had to be somewhere here. He had been in the office all night and there were no disturbances. Perhaps she was in the pool house, he hadn't checked in there yet.

Conrad was about to shut the front door, but stopped. Something was wrong, something was missing, he was sure of it...

_His_ car.

Conrad opened the closet to look for his coat and the car keys that were in its pocket.

Gone...

Conrad cried out into the night in frustration, ripping a table lamp out of its socket and flinging it at the front door where it smashed on impact. He ran his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily. He stormed into the study, searching through the draws for the keys to one of his other cars that were still stored in the garages. Five minutes of furious searching turned up no keys whatsoever, and Conrad had emptied the contents of his desk drawers onto the study floor.

"Where are my damn car keys, you deceptive little bitch?!"

"I hope that wasn't directed at me, Conrad Grayson," came a voice from behind him. Victoria was stood in the doorway of the study, smiling at his agitation. She held up a set of car keys, swinging them on her finger. "Looking for these?"

"Victoria. Where the _hell_ have you been with my car?"

"I decided to take it for a little ride."

"In the middle of the night? Victoria, if there's anyone who has been taken for a ride here it's me. Now are you going to tell me what in god's name is going on?"

"Calm down Conrad and pour me a drink. You better pour yourself one too - you're going to need it when I tell you who we've had a message from. It seems like two of our oldest and dearest friends are wanting to re-connect."

She held out the picture that the long-haired man had given her. Conrad took it, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Rick and Giovanna."

Conrad swallowed hard; his mouth was dry.

"What do you think they want?" Victoria asked.

"To punish us, I imagine. Finally." Conrad poured a drink for them both and they drank it in silence for a while.

"Oh Christ, I don't know what to think," Conrad said. "We're in deep this time, you and I."

"We've been in trouble before," she said.

"This is worse, Victoria."

"In what way?"

Conrad reached into his pocket and pulled out the old photograph of them on holiday in Italy visiting Rick and his wife in 2003. He gave it to her.

"This picture is on the entry page to that hate-blog I showed you earlier. I didn't want to worry you - you looked so shaken up from the crash. So I only showed you the articles. I was hoping to look into it further whilst you were recovering."

Victoria's eyes were fixed on the picture.

"This can't be a coincidence."

"No, I agree - this is a threat. I think we've discovered the mysterious Poltergeist's true identity," Conrad said. "Or should I say _identities_."

Conrad and Victoria sat together on the sofa, staring into the embers of the dying fire. Both silently wondered whether they could trust the other enough to fight these deadly ghosts - battling side by side, together, once again.


End file.
